Tag: churches in Lyon

Up to The Hill That Prays Part 1

May 11

Dear Liza,

We headed up, finally, to visit a place we have seen every day we have been in Lyon.

The Basilica of Notre Dame de Fourviere stands on the top of the hill west of Lyon, and is visible from most of the city. But to get there, we took the A line Metro, then walked across a bridge, then took a funicular train almost straight up to the top of the hill.

Since the funicular is part of the transit system, we just used our regular bus cards!

It was easy to find the church… it’s huge! Also, there was a pretty steady stream of tourist buses and school groups heading in that direction.

Before we went inside, we walked around to the bell tower, which is on top of the chapel that was built here originally, in the late 1700s.

After a few years the sanctuary here became so popular, (having up to 12 masses a day to keep up) the diocese realized they needed a bigger church. The Basilica was finished in 1875, though it was designed to look much older.

The inside of the church is the most decorated, detailed, carved, painted and mosaic-ed place I have ever seen. As we sat on the wooden pews, hundreds more people filed in. Unfortunately, the buzz of the crowd, punctuated by the inevitable shrieks and giggles of school groups, made for a less-than-reverential experience.

We stepped out and walked around the courtyard, enjoying the views of the city from the overlook, and had lunch at the lovely cafe.

About this time Grandpa Nelson got worn out, and headed home. Auntie Bridgett and I decided to stick around for the second part of our adventure.

More about that tomorrow.

Love,

Grandma Judy

St. Pothin Church

May 5

Dear Liza,

As we settle into our life here in Lyon, we are having one good sized adventure early in the day, and one smaller walkabout in the afternoon.

Our afternoon adventure the other day led us to St. Pothin, the first church we have been able to go into. Until now, they have been either locked, or full of worshippers.

As we approached, we saw that the door was open and an odd, low growl was in the air. We entered and realized the organist was practicing her low notes at the organ by the altar.

We walked slowly up the main aisle, appreciating the glowing stained glass windows and the perfect proportions of the dome. The organist’s playing got more animated and moved to a minor key, becoming slightly creepy.

As we went up some stairs, the music became more and more menacing, like the soundtrack of a movie just before the monster appears. I was freaking out a bit, to be honest.

We went back down the stairs and Bridgett continued her slow walk, enjoying the art. But all my cinema-trained instincts were telling me to Get.Out. Now. I beat a hasty (but dignified) retreat up the aisle, and waited for Bridgett on the porch.

Turns out, there was no monster, just some really good organ playing by a woman who knows how to evoke a mood. That was our first Lyonnaise church.

And home to make a fine dinner.

Love,

Grandma Judy